What...We've Got Hyar Is...Part II

In Part I, I introduced you to Balentina (from left to right, her sister and her, or so she says), who is coming to America for a new life.

With me. Or so she says/scams.

According to the stuff she conveyed to me, Ms. Balentina lived in some small little village in central Russia, about 900 miles E/SE of Moscow (or so she says). And that the one great hurdle in her coming to meet me here, was getting from that small village in central Russia, to Moscow (or so she says).

Well, after my last slightly snide reply -- again, with a total lack of comprehension of what I said therein -- it becomes evident that she has apparently cleared that hurdle with comparative ease, as she replies to me again. From Moscow (or so she says):

Hello my darling (awwww, shucks...now I'm darling....*eye roll*)!!!

It is me again. I cannot believe I am in Moscow already (neither do I, but I digress and she goes on). It was a wonderful flight for me and everything go well. You know even though Moscow is capital of our big country, it is just like some country (uh, what she said). Different people, like and the prices are very very high. People are very rude and angry (sounds more like Newark, NJ, to me). When I get off plane and was wait for baggage a policeman come up me and ask me to show passport. They are all crazy here because of terrorism. It humiliating to me. Then I take bus from airport for over 1 hour, but I see many good places in Moscow this way.

She rambles on about how big, expensive and crowded Moscow is, then gets to her accommodations: I found a place to stay. I rent a room from an old woman. She is about 70 years. She say her husband die 2 years ago and she has two grown up children but they already married and don't come to visit much so she is alone and she give me cheap rent to stay with her which make me happy. She is very nice woman!! She say I must be careful about travel and with you, but I say to her I know you are nice man, and my cellmate (I think she meant soulmate, or perhaps a Freudian slip thang, but eh...). She say I should still be careful when I meet you, but if you are what I am sure, she think it be okay for me (thanks, Granny...may a weasel pee in your borsch).

After a bit more of that hokum-ski, she gets down to the nitty-borschski: now, I need for you to tell me which airport I fly to meet you. I wish to come soon, because I am becoming to feel very love about about you (time for a panic *TOING*), and I must have to be with you to feel and make this love come true. I know you are my man that I have dream of (a few ex-girl friends are gagging just now, and she goes on) and I cannot wait to start with making you happy I am coming (I will resist a really tacky comment there).

Then comes that seminal moment, that point in these deals that John Wayne's character in True Grit described as "getting down to the rat killing", and the moment I've known was coming at some point in this bullshevik: I do need to ask for you some help. I am not with enough money to have all I need for ticket to USA. If I tell you where to send, would you make my love yours with money to complete my ticket? I need only $300 to make you mine (*TOING TOING TOING TOING*). I am so near to make you now, please don't disapoint me.

She goes on to tell me how to send it, using something I've never heard of -- e-gold -- and finishes with darling, don't let me down and tell me again your airport I fly to! With loves and kisses soon!!!

I said it afore, and I'll say it agin: bullshevik. Like another scamstress of Boris 'n Natashaville, it's the old "$300 ploy". At any rate, it's time to do some more English comprehension testing with MissDancy54:

Conditionally Dearest Balentina of dubious antecedence and geographical locality,

You know, that old woman you're renting from is probably rather smart about ways of the world, even if she screws small animals using implements and visual aids. You need to be cautious, a small town babe in a big, bad city, where sheep roundups aren't much different than cattle calls at the Chicken Ranch. I'm so glad you think I'm a good man; I rather think I play one on TV, even though I really don't, because I don't have an agent. As for you making me your dream, this I can do as well, long as your dream is being eaten by a T-rex in a cheap B movie. If I were you, I'd have to get smaller shoes and I'd kind of set the bar a bit higher. But that's only if I were you, and obviously I'm not, because I'm here responding to your effort to give me the business-ski, Moscow-style.

Granted, you really don't know if I'm just an ogre that flatulates, eats weed rats, and has the kind of breath that peels bark off of trees. But you don't care since you love me, and as we all know, love conquers all, especially when you have the baddest divorce attorney in town! Badda boom badda bing, fuggetabouit! Fact of the matter is, I am really nothing more than a rather horny leech, and you gonna be one fine notch on my bedpost upon arrival, babycakes. Yowza and hooha! Don't worry, I'll teach you the meaning of both of those, mama-babuska.

Now, as to the money...all I need to send you is a measly $300? Well shucks, Ma'am, if I'd knowd I could get had for such a paltry sum, I coulda quit wasting time and just go ahaid and got it done. I've gotten laid for much more, spent over a longer period of time! I have that much left over from my Monopoly game, I'm sure. I mean, I am your dream of dreams, right?

I never heard of this e-gold stuff, but what's a little unfamiliarity, what with all the unfamiliarity we're operating on already, my Steppes Muffin? So the sooner I git 'er done, the sooner you'll be in my body odor radius, and that's when we'll get down to the pokin' and the proddin', my little gulag blossom!

Lemme see what I can work up hyar, so's you can git to givin' me this hyar business of yours.

Of course, nuthin' got sent via e-gold or whatever it was. And perhaps it was that what got the scales to start falling from her eyes. OR, mayhaps I think I finally managed to say a thing or two that caused her to leave the script just a tad, and start to wonder about my sincerity:

I not understood your word. What is divorce you talk? Why you make fun of me and say gulag? My darling, I need from you money to make dream come. Do you still want me come? Please to don't make fun of me. My feelings are sensitive yes? These things you say make me concern. Please send money soon so we can continue to my meet you. This is must for me to have.

Okay, it appears I finally kind of got her attention, but didn't as yet dissuade her from her objective of $300. So now, I decide to REALLY get her attention with what is probably an international violation of..er...something or other. Then again, with all the international violations taking place from Nigeria and elsewhere, what's one more between a scammer and her baiter:

Comrade Balentina Manyiowa:

I am Colonel Ivanov Vishinsky Absolut, of the State Secret Police, Moscow District. I have been monitoring your ILLEGAL COMMUNICATIONS with a suspected agent of the Western intelligence organization, U.N.C.L.E. You will CEASE AT ONCE ALL FURTHER COMMUNICATION WITH THIS PERSON, or you will FACE ARREST BY THE STATE! This is NON-NEGOTIABLE!

Dasvadanya,

Colonel Ivanov Vishinsky Absolut,
Moscow District
State Secret Police
"Book Em, Danofski!"

Now, do I really think that she believed that last email? Nawp, shore don't. But what I do believe is, she -- or her 'handler' -- figured out she wasn't going to get her $300. And I reckon that based on her silence, which has lasted now nearly a month.

Too bad, too. I was looking forward to her coming. Really.

Well okay...I would have settled for her breathing hard. Really. At my age, you take what you can git.